


The Protector I Became (But No One Saw)

by SilverBlaze85



Series: Puppy Cargo Verse [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, h/c bingo fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBlaze85/pseuds/SilverBlaze85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> “You didn’t have a choice? Kiara, they’re babies, not your little soldiers!” </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Protector I Became (But No One Saw)

  
**Title:** The Protector I Became (But No One Saw)  
 **Word Count:** 1,183 words  
 **Fandom:** SPN, part of my Puppy!Verse  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Warnings:** Child abuse, mentions of child death, somewhat graphic, fills my Hurt/Comfort prompt for “forced to participate in illegal / hurtful activity”, if that gives any warnings. Tread with caution.  
 **Summary:** _“You didn’t have a choice? Kiara, they’re babies, not your little soldiers!”_  
  


* * *

  
Sam hadn’t thought much of it when Kiara had asked for the silver shavings, the cold iron, the antifreeze. It was unusual, but it’s also Kiara… unusual was her modus operandi, everyone who interacted with her knew it. He had shrugged and done as she asked, filling small jars with the items and handing them over when she showed up for the bi-monthly visit, pups in tow. And he’d tried to ignore the prickling along the back of his neck that something just wasn’t right, that something was off about the situation, when she tucked the jars into her jacket and took the pups deeper into the woods.

Looking back, he really wished he’d listened to his instincts. Listening to Tank snuffle occasionally, pressed against his side like a leech, he really wished he’d listened to them. Dean and Kiara are still yelling out in the yard, and he idly remembers Bobby and his Dad hashing out the same fight, and he still sides with Bobby.

He thinks after this, Dean might too.

***

Dean paused at the top of the stairs, watching Kiara stroll up the back path, the boys heeling behind her. She stops by the Jeep, pulling out their bags as she tells them to head on in, and he doesn’t think anything about dropping a hand to ruffle Fox’s hair. Except the boy flinches, _hard_ , stumbling into Tank’s side, and the ominous feeling surges up even higher than before, and Dean crouches down, absently noticing that Kiara froze, watching them intently. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He’s aged, eyesight a little less sharp than before, but still plenty sharp enough to see the slight trickle of red against the boy’s red hair, and the worry flutters against him as he coaxes Fox close enough to part his hair, searching out the damage and finding nothing but smooth skin. “Kiara, Fox was bleeding,” he says, turning to her, and the cold grey stare that meets his sends his internal alarms panicking. “Boys, head inside, okay?” Tank shakes his head, wrapping an arm around Fox, and there’s a smear of crimson along his tiny forearm. He’s shaking, praying he’s wrong, but with the nagging sense that’s he completely right. Sam steps out onto the porch, and he trades a quick glance, and entire conversation in a brief eye flicker, and his own brother effortlessly slides between Kiara and the boys. Protecting and shielding. Dean stands up, another layer of protection, and he steels himself. “What happened?”

Kiara doesn’t even pretend to misunderstand, just meets his glare dead on. “A training accident.” The words are measured and carefully bland, and it just fans the ire rising in him.

“Training accident. That what the kids are calling it these days?” She just tips her head, acknowledging the sarcasm but not arguing otherwise. Then she licks her lip, and he can see the blood, the smear along the edge, and he growls as surely as the wolves, trembling in his rage. “Tell me you didn’t do that,” he demands, and she grins coldly up at him.

“You’re wanting me to lie now, Dean?” She widens her stance, and he hears Sam behind him, quietly herding the boys inside with mentions of the chocolate chip cookies he just pulled out of the oven. The boys are inside, away from her, and it’ll be over his cold and dead body (and likely Sam’s as well) before she can get to them. Knowing they’re safe, sheltered, he doesn’t hesitate to loosen the strangle-hold on his anger. “I didn’t have a choice, okay?”

He snorts at that. “ _You_ didn’t have a choice? Kiara, they’re _babies_ , not your little soldiers!” She snarls at him, arms dropping to clench as fists as her form flickers faintly, and he briefly wonders what the shotgun inside the door is loaded with, silver or salt.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I’m clueless? I didn’t have a choice, okay?” Her voice is firm and solid, but her eyes have thawed, shoulders a little hunched, and he’s torn.

“Explain this to me, then. Explain what the hell happened, because I’ll tell you now, if you don’t, you’re not getting the boys.” Her eyes snap up at that, lip curling, and part of him relaxes. If she’s that furious at the threat, then perhaps this can still be worked out. “You think I won’t? I know enough about the Loup Garou to make this place a fortress. Don’t try me.”

She slumps a little, the fight going out of her when she realizes he’s serious. “I didn’t have a choice, Dean.” She takes a deep breath, and meets his gaze. “14. As of yesterday morning, 14 pups in our packs had been poisoned, all by the same method. One wolf out of Montana saw what was happening, stopped their pups from getting into it, and we’re trying to deal with the fall-out.” A sharp breeze whips through the rusted out husks of cars, and she shivers a little, hunching further into her jacket, and he can’t bring himself to let her in just yet, can’t trust her that much, and it _hurts_. “Hunters are scoping out where the nurseries are, and apparently, tossing in tainted meat.” And like a light bulb clicking on, he gets it. Understands now why she asked for the silver that would burn a wolf from the inside out, the antifreeze that would slowly destroy blood vessels, cold iron that would weaken and kill slowly. He tries hard not to think of the werewolves and Loup Garou their family has killed, but he can’t quite push the memory of the young woman convulsing and slowly turning blue after the cold iron lodged in her thigh. They had hunted her down like a wounded deer, tracking blood and broken foliage, and it was almost a week later they had found her. He tries not to think of what would happen to the boys if they got a hold of it.

“You still didn’t have to hurt them,” he argues, but he’s losing the white-hot anger, starting to understand.

She snorts, hair ruffling in the wind. “They’re _babies_ , Dean. I can’t make them understand that they can’t eat that, that it’s bad. The best I can do is make them terrified of that scent, and put the fear of God into the ones that watch them. It’s not something I wanted to do, but I don’t see another choice, do you? They poisoned 14 pups… that’s 28 that we’ve lost. Do you know the damage that’s done to our population? Not to mention morale, having to put down the healthy survivors.” Her eyes are haunted, and she looks a little broken, and yeah, Dean gets it. He doesn’t want to, but he gets it, understands why she had to choose Leader over Mother, and wound those who trust her the most.

He can’t quite forgive her, but he understands, turning his back on her as he makes his way back into the house, where there’s two terrified little boys who desperately need some affection.


End file.
